"Ye—es," drawled Fred, evidently with a suspicion of what was coming, and trying to change the subject by suddenly burying himself in his memorandum-book. But this ruse did not succeed, for Esther crossed the room to where Fred sat, placed her hands on his shoulders, and a kiss on his forehead, and exclaimed:
"Fred, you're the proper person to reform those two men!"
"Oh, Ettie," groaned Fred, "you're entirely mistaken. Why, they'd laugh right in my face, if they didn't get angry and knock me down. Reformers want to be older men, better men, men like your father, for instance, if people are to listen to them."
"Father says they need to be men who understand the nature of those they are talking to," replied Esther; and you once told me that you understood Moshier and Crayme perfectly."
"But just think of what they are, Ettie," pleaded Fred. "Moshier is a contractor, and Crayme's a steamboat captain; such men never reform, though they always are good fellows. Why, if I were to speak to either of them on the subject, they'd laugh in my face, or curse me. The only way I was able to make peace with them for stopping drinking myself, was to say that I did it to please my wife."
"Did they accept that as sufficient excuse?" asked Esther.
"Yes," said Fred reluctantly, and biting his lips over this slip of his tongue.
"Then you've set them a good example, and I can't believe its effect will be lost," said Esther.
"I sincerely hope it won't," said Fred, very willing to seem a reformer at heart, "nobody would be gladder than I to see those fellows with wives as happy as mine seems to be."
"Then why don't you follow it up, Fred, dear, and make sure of your hopes being realized? You can't imagine how much happier I would be if I could meet those dear women without feeling that I had to hide the joy that's so hard to keep to myself."